Stewing Romance

A tune flickered on the radio As we waltzed into the kitchen My hand wraps around yours As I flick on the stove top with the other. You grab a pot out of the cupboard And I grab the meat from the fridge You spray down the warming metal And I grab out the vegetables I peel the potatoes gently Trying to watch you from the corner of my eyes. You tenderize the pork Your hands pressing down and squeezing softly I groan aloud, by mistake The sizzling and popping have arrived And I still have carrots to chop. You turn to smile at me delicately The table slams And I awake, alone in the kitchen. It was just another memory Of a time, long before now. The stew warms gradually upon gradient flames I open the lid to see juices flowing over bite sized pieces of meat This caused a sensation of heartache and lust As I stir gently the meat melts away from bone A shiver runs down my spine as I watch Like an outsider looking in I tear away bit by bit as secretion splashes against potatoes I no longer care; I know I need this. I rip and smack until I couldn’t anymore Just like those forgotten years. I place a shaking finger into the stew Licking away the sweet nectar Where are you, I thought You always made such flavorful fluids As we laid entangled We could create better together now. Both older and wiser Like the soups of old. I turn the stew on low as the doorbell rings I open to see my past. You stand in the doorway Yet again, With a stew twice the size of mine I no longer care, I need this.